Skirting Predicaments
by ayanami-verloren
Summary: Just one of the many predicaments Arthur Kirkland faces. GakuHeta AU. Human names used.
1. Chapter 1

**Hetalia is not mine. Belongs to Himaruya-sensei.**

**Warning: Yaoi, a bloody skirt and…WORLD X ENGLAND~ oh, curses blah blah blah….**

**Provoking the predicament.**

"Seriously, it isn't like I was the one who designed that." Arthur tried to stay calm. His green eyes locked with Elizabeta's own green orbs. He could see that this conversation wouldn't go anywhere.

Elizabeta suddenly pounded on Arthur's table, sending Arthur's paper work flying. "But you can do something about this! Look at this uniform, it is unjust!" The girl's eyes shone with furious spirit.

Ah, the issue about the Hetalia Gakuen's female uniform… Ever since Arthur took the position as the student council president he has gotten mountains and mountains of complaints about it. He also cannot count how many times he has had discussions and confrontations like this he has had with the female body of the school, led by no other than Ms. Elizabeta Hedevary.

Not to mention all the doors that were taken down by the girls. Honestly, Arthur already has fund for monthly repairs and replication of the said doors who has met an awful fate of dying under raging female's feet.

"It a little bit short yes but it's…" Arthur grazed towards the rest of the female population in room, some with worried looks on their faces but mostly glaring at him like he was the one who decreed them to wear those, which he isn't by the way. "…decent?…"

"What do you mean 'decent'?! It's downright skimpy!" Bella and some among the hordes of females shouted, much to the approval of all of the females present in the room.

"Kirkland, this is sexism, I tell you!" Michelle appeared beside Arthur jolting the man out of his seat.

"What are you doing here?! I thought I ordered everyone from the council to leave the room!"

"I happen to be part of the 'female side' so deal with it."

Arthur groaned. Why can't these girls get the fact that it wasn't his job to assess these things!?… It was Mr. Vargas' job for goodness bloody sakes! Arthur eyed the female uniform again. He honestly cannot see anything wrong with it. Nothing, what so ever.

But then again Arthur does agree that it is on the slightly short side…

"Can't you decree that we can also wear pants…or at least increase the length?" Arthur heard one of the timid girls said, blushing slightly.

Arthur sighed. "I-I can try but it will still be up to Mr. Vargas if he'll permit it."

But then Arthur made a fatal step.

"…I personally don't see anything wrong with it…"

**-TORTURE-EXCECUTED-**

"Why did I agree with this again?" Arthur groaned. Fuck his position, damn it.

"Oh, cheer up Arthur, after all you said that there is nothing wrong with 'our' uniform. Maybe a day in it would enlighten you." Arthur shivered at the smile Elizabeta sent him.

"Bloody hell…" Arthur groaned as he slammed his head on his office desk. Maybe he can cut class and say that he finally got buried under mountains of paper work.

The glare and Natalia's far-too-sharp knives made him think otherwise though.

**Flashback to yesterday~**

"_I personally don't see anything wrong with it…"_

_Arthur proceeded to rearrange the paper on his desk, not noticing the dark aura forming around the girls and the strange way that Elizabeta's eye twitches. _

"_Now then off you…" Arthur gulped as he was met with insane and crazy looks from the girls. _

_Murderous in fact…_

_Arthur shrank back to his chair when Elizabeta put a hand on his table and leaned in. Homicidal intent clearly on her lovely face. Arthur paled even more when the girl smiled._

_Satan just choked on his bourbon somewhere down there…_

"_So there is nothing wrong with it huh?" There was a strange look on Elizabeta's eyes that made Aethur want to scream for anyone. Even Francis, the perverted goat-face wine bastard frog would do. Well, the man is the Vice-president… _

"_Maybe we could convince him with a more forceful persuasion." A pair of knives embedded themselves next to both side of Arthur's head. _

"_Weapons aren't allowed within school premises…" Arthur managed to say but froze by the stare Natalia Braginski gave him. He'll have to report the girl to Vash later…_

"_Maybe we can show you what we experience everyday, Arthur." The poor Englishman's head turned towards Michelle, whose brown eyes screamed bloody murder._

"_Eh,umm…there is no need for that…"_

"_Sure there is~" Bella, the Belgian girl from his art class chirp cheerfully._

_To Arthur it sounded like his death sentence._

"_And what better way to show it you, by letting you experience it for yourself…" Lily, Vash's younger sister said, smiling at Arthur warmly._

_It made Arthur's blood cold._

_It got a thousand times colder from all the approving, not to mention, maniacal stares he was getting. _

_Arthur stared at the sharp knives that Natalia held. _

_He prayed, he prayed hard._

_That he'll be able to leave here alive…_

_And with his pride and manhood intact._

**End of flashback**

Back to scenario here…

Needless to say, Arthur managed to get leave, warm and alive.

But that was a different issue with his pride and manhood.

"You look sooo cute, Are you really sure you're a boy?" Elizabeta giggled at the annoyed look oh Arthur's face.

"Sod off! And I do not look 'cute'! I look like a moron!"

"Oh c'mon eyebrows~ Not everyone can pull this look off and you pull it off mightily fine!" Michelle piped in, amused smiled on her face.

"I feel insulted, and strangely, violated."

"Maybe if you agreed in the first place to follow our demands this wouldn't be happening… and you so do look cute!" Bella said, taking in Arthur's appearance.

Arthur, no longer able to take the cooing from the girls stood up from his chair and tried to stumped his feet in annoyance.

Tried. Only tried.

What happened was, when Arthur was going to stump his feet, the red-checkered skirt fluttered even in just a single gesture. Albeit the deed was rash and rough, still it didn't justify why the skirt would flutter like that when there is practically no air current in the room.

Although it did justified Arthur's totally-manly-I'm–so-sarcastic-right-now yelp and the furious redness on his face.

Arthur is getting a clear idea why girls hated their uniforms…

He was starting to curse it to the deepest pits of hell himself…

The Englishman, who is wearing a skirt, looked over to his 'tormentors' to see them all beaming and had that 'I'm-going-to-coo-at-you-right-now-because-you-look-sooo- ukeish-right-now look.

Well, at least it was only the skirt, they had let him keep his male upper uniform. Arthur would die right the second if he was force to wear the whole attire.

"If I agree to support you guys, can I change back to my own uniform?" Arthur asked, even though he had a feeling it was futile.

And based on the smile rest of the girls sent him…

He was doomed…

**The end!**

**Hahaha, I had so much fun writing this~ I got this prompt from livejournal and since it isn't filled I decided to write it and totally not post it on the meme(I don't want to and know how to) To the person who requested this, I'm really sorry. And to all whose reading this, I'm also sorry because I'm not sure if I have enough ideas to fuel this, wow, that coming from someone like me is funny...**

**Sooooooooooooo…**

**ANY IDEAS~ I'm dead serious, any ideas at all! This is supposed to be a let's-all-molest-Arthur story so every male character is welcome. I only have a few characters on my head right now-RUSSIA AND SWITZERLAND sooo yeah, you realize I need ideas, plots on how your requested male can cough-molest-cough Arthur…**

**Or maybe I could end it here and let you guys and me wander it for ourselves? I'll stick to England's brothers or Russia saving his arse at the end(and brutally punishing all those molesters or just France)**

**IDEAS,IDEAS,IDEAS,IDEAS,IDEAS,IDEAS, IDEAS,IDEAS,IDEAS,IDEAS,IDEAS~ Wow, I never realized that when you type ideas so many times you can make the mistake of typing 'IDEAD' instead…wow, that just totally rhymed…**

**IDEAS! REQUESTS! REVIEWS!**

**And no flaming please!**


	2. Homeroom

**Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, not mine.**

**Warning: Nothing bordering M-rated so far… And violence, language, grammar errors that was not checked, etc…**

**A.N:Well I continued, still not sure if I can keep it up but since you all have such lovely ideas, I'll try my best. Please don't kill me.**

**HOMEROOM**

"Why exactly are you wearing a skirt?"Arthur glared at the Swiss who was staring at him with an incredulous look.

"You can ask your sister about that." Arthur said, motioning to the girls that were standing in the side of his still-closed-office. It wouldn't be good if someone walked on in them.

Even bad would be Francis barging in like he likes to do every morning.

"We just wanted Arthur to see it in our point of view and what better way to do so by having him wear a skirt for just a day…" Elizabeta said seconded by a nod from Lily, who was looking at his brother with a determined look. Something that Vash rarely sees on his sister.

"But what if Mr. Vargas catches Arthur? He can be punished severely for this…" Vash asked bluntly. He couldn't have any disobedience of the rules in the school. To his surprise Elizabeta blushed and quickly blocking he nose. He was going to ask whether the girl is okay but someone else drew his attention away from the commotion.

"We have yet to ask his permission though I'm sure he'll be surprise~ After all, he did say that Arthur could use brightening up a little!" Bella said, eyes slightly drifting towards her Hungarian friend who is now being handed a box of tissues.

Vash isn't sure he's happy with that answer. He turned toward Arthur who was busy going through the agenda for today, must be trying to see if he can go home early. It seems that luck isn't on his side for the Englishman sighs.

"What are you going to do? You have your classes today."

Arthur groaned. "I know…."

Arthur's determined green eyes met Vash's own. Vash had always thought that Arthur's eyes were pretty…

"Can you guard me?"

The two of them stared at each other. Vash blinked twice, confused at what Arthur meant. Arthur only stared at him, eyes brightening.

Not to mention Lily inwardly cheering for her brother…

"What do you mean?" Vash asked, trying to keep his composure. If this is a sick joke, he has a gun here and isn't afraid to used it.

"I meant what I said. The two of us have some classes together and more specifically with Francis and his troupe of hooligans. Just make sure they and no one else's gets near me." Arthur said, standing up and looking straight at the Swiss.

Vash could see Arthur's thighs…He gulped. He never thought that they would be that shapely…or smooth…or oh-so-girl like…

Vash wanted to shoot himself down right this second. He so didn't just think that.

That was contradicted by the furious blush on his cheeks.

"A-and what if I don't do it?" Vash crossed his arms desperately trying to calm and hide the warmth on his face. Arthur only smiled, albeit it was warm but it looked foreign. It was something familiar to Vash.

It was the President's manipulative smile that signifies shit going down if he doesn't get his way.

Luckily, Vash is unaffected by it. That is if he didn't notice how seductive the smile can be…

Vash is sure that the skirt is messing up his head, big time.

"Oh but if you don't, I might just flip a few Francis and wreak havoc in the school. That will be a long, long detention session don't you think, Zwingli." Arthur's smile got even brighter. "I'm sure that you would enjoy sitting through all that with me and Francis and all the morons that will invoke my wrath, now would you."

Arthur crossed his arms, intimidating Vash. "And the school is crawling with morons…"

Vash was so not flustered by the intimidation and dominance of the feminine man in front of him. Oh for goodness, no…

The two of them was interrupted by the bell and the noise of the student rushing to their respective rooms. Vash is thankful of the distraction.

"So will you do it?" Arthur asked. Vash thought for a minute, refusing to look at Arthur, especially the goddamn skirt.

"Sure. If you promise that this will not end up being a bloodbath, I'll do it." Vash said, normal seriousness back.

It would have been successful if he wasn't taken aback by Arthur's genuinely sincere smile. He stood there like an idiot, not noticing that his sister is nearly faint.

"Well! We'll be seeing you again Kirkland!" Michelle yelled as she closed the door, holding up a dizzy Lily and a fainted Elizabeta. Arthur and Vash could hear her yelling at Bella and Mei to pull their selves together. Arthur sighed. This is going to be a long day.

"Shall we get going then?" Arthur said, smiling at Vash.

Vash, who wasn't used to Arthur smiling like that, nodded stiffly before following the President out of the door.

* * *

The long walk to the east wing was interesting to say the least. Arthur managed to get there from the main wing, without someone touching so much a strand of his hair or someone laughing their heads off.

No more like people's eyes were gouging out of their socket and feeling a bit dizzy. Except for the rest of the female population who knew all about Elizabeta and Arthur's agreement. They only kept their private sinister smiles as they saw the remaining few males on the corridor ogle at their President…

And those thighs and that perfectly shape bum of his…

But no dared to even utter a peep. Or take so much a picture or whisper to one another.

Maybe that is because of the intimidating young man beside Arthur, who has a rifle slung on his shoulders, staring the passing students down to obedience.

This was going to be a secret. That was what Vash Zwingli's look says. And it better stay that way, if you do not want bullets rain on you. That is what Arthur Kirkland's smug, knowing look says.

The small crowd watched as the duo walk away. Their school is run by an authoritarian disciplinary head and a pawky Council President. And both of them were scary.

* * *

"Why are you wearing a girl's skirt?" Mr. Beilschmidt asked, eyes narrowing at the blond man in front of him. And it wasn't Feliks Lukasiewicz for a change.

Not to mention his head throbbing from all the chaos and ruckus in his room.

And all because of the notorious Arthur Kirkland walking in the room.

In a skirt.

Needless to say Mr. Beilschmidt wanted an explanation badly.

Arthur on the other hand, didn't know whether he was furious or embarrassed. Given that he wanted to rip a certain Frenchman's head and throw it to Antarctica, he must be furious. But the catcalls and those 'weird' stares Arthur garnered from the rest of the room unnerved him.

Luckily, Vash was there to act as a meatshield, staring the students down ready to shot pellets at them. Even though those things are plastic, they still hurt, and if aimed correctly, can be futile.

And everyone knows that Vash is an excellent targetshooter. Another reason Francis didn't jump Arthur the moment the Brit came into the classroom.

"If I could have refused this I would have and if you have questions you better ask Elizabeta about this. It was her idea."Arthur said, eyes scouring the room for the Hungarian. He obviously wanted to point fingers at anyone at this moment.

To Arthur's surprise, the Hungarian wasn't there.

And he only received a wink from Francis.

Arthur flinched at the sound of a pellet bullet barely missing Francis's head. He scowled.

Such a shame it wasn't a real bullet.

"Whatever the reason, I still would have to report this to the principal. It is a violation of the school's dresscode, now go and change to your uniform, Arthur." Mr. Beilschmidt said, eyes cold and not even fazed by his students' sound of disagreement.

Although, Arthur's green emerald eyes looking at him with full admiration might have rattled him a little.

Mr. Beilschmidt coughed, trying to erase the thought from his head.

Arthur grinned. At least someone in this school has the right mind to know that he shouldn't be wearing a skirt. He didn't care if he was going to be sent to the Principal's office, though it hurts his pride to be sent into Mr. Vargas's office for such an embarrassing reason as wearing a bloody skirt. He looked to the direction of Vash, who is still in his serious-mode. He has to thank the man later. And then a smug smirk came to Arthur's face as he turned towards the girls. So much for their…whatever their plan is! Arthur was about to go out of the room when he notice something.

Bella and the remaining girls in his class were smiling at him sardonically.

Not a good sign.

Arthur was about to go out of the room when the door suddenly burst open. He has a very bad and foreboding feeling about this. Especially when Mr. Vargas stood in the entrance, eyes bright and excited, trained on Arthur himself.

That was when he saw Elizabeta smiling behind the principal. Damn that woman.

It seems that all Arthur's chances of escaping just flew out of the window.

Arthur jumped in surprised when his hands were suddenly seized by a beaming Mr. Vargas. From the man's bright smile, he must be very happy.

'_How can anyone be happy seeing a guy in a freaking skirt!?'_ Arthur shouted in his head.

"And here I was thinking Ms. Elizabeta was just planning to play a joke on me! I really didn't think you'll actually wear a skirt, well at least around the school." Mr. Vargas' smile just got bigger.

"I NEVER WEAR SKIRTS EVEN IN PRIVATE, SIR!" Okay, now that just insulted Arthur.

It also sort of took a pang of what is left of his manly pride.

Mr. Vargas placed his hand on Arthur's shoulder, tapping on them gently. "Still you look great in one." The man smiled at Arthur even more.

Arthur didn't know whether his soul just left his body or was that the rest of his masculinity.

Yeah, probably the masculinity.

Arthur swatted away Mr. Vargas's hand and scowled. "Males do not look good in skirts!" He shouted.

"Not really, Mon cher, I think you're lovely~" Francis said, smiling at Arthur.

"Well Fuck you Francis!" And Arthur raised two fingers just to prove his point. A flash of light distracted him though...

"Kesesese, I didn't think Liz would actually talk you into this…" Arthur glared at the direction where the flash came from. Gilbert only smirked at him.

"This is sooo going to my blog right now!" Gilbert said, tinkering at his mobile. Arthur only glared at him, hands itching not to wring that man's neck.

"Ve~ I thought Arthur would look great at a dress~ Isn't he cute fratello?!" Feliciano said, yanking at Lovino, who tried to rip the other Italian away from him.

"Fuck off stupid fratello, and the English bastard doesn't look cute." Lovino, said, managing to get Feliciano off him, crossing his arms and staring at Arthur before looking away.

"But he so does look cute…" Feliciano said, frowning a little. "Hey, Arthur~ Let's have pasta for lunch! Ve~" The Italian said, waving at Arthur.

Arthur only stared, as Lovino pounced on his younger brother, chocking him in a neck lock.

"I was going to ask him, stupid fratello!"

"Ve! But you said he doesn't look cute!"

"Forget what I said idiot!"

"Wah! Fratello! You're chocking me!"

Arthur stared as Mr. Beilschmidt ripped the two apart and then glared at their grandfather, who was smiling fondly at the scene.

"You should have stopped them." Mr. Beilschmidt said. His cold eyes on Mr. Vargas' warm brown ones.

"Oh, c'mon. It's only natural my grandsons would be after cute girls" Mr. Vargas's gaze turned to Arthur. "And cute boys as well!"

Arthur wondered if it will be bad if he grabbed Vash's gun and shot the Roman. That seemed to be very rational this moment. He also cannot comprehend how exactly did the man became the principal of this institution.

Maybe Arthur should start comprehending why he even studied here in the first place. He should have known the very day he took that interview that this school is full of insane, moronic wankers.

"And besides, it isn't only my grandsons, you know…" Mr. Vargas laughed. "Almost everyone in the room is eyeing dear Arthur here!"

"I'm pretty sure that is indecent." Mr. Beilschmidt said, forehead knitting again.

Arthur's cheeks coloured at what their principal was saying. Didn't the man know that it is embarrassing? But of course the man is Italian…

"Can you just let me change to my uniform!?" The frustrated Arthur shouted, interrupting the conversation.

It didn't help that the skirt swayed to his every move though…

Mr. Beilschmidt sighed. "The boy is right though…What did he do to deserve this kind of torture…"He eyed the boy pityingly.

Mr. Vargas hummed in contemplation. "Yes, maybe. It wouldn't be good that the president might quit because of sexual assaults, hahahaha~" Mr. Vargas just laughed much to Mr. Beilschmidt's disapproval and Arthur's mortified look.

But then, Mr. Vargas turned serious and faced Arthur. A grim look on his face. Arthur gulped.

He could just feel his death sentence coming.

"But I cannot do that. You see, this was a request from the female body of the school and I cannot overlook it. They even submitted a memo for it. Of course, they would need my and your approval to make improvements on their uniforms. They also need to prove to me and you that they have basis on why exactly they want to change their uniforms."

"But I already said I would give them my approval!"

Mr. Vargas shook his head. "That may be but they still need basis. What you are doing is like surveying and placing yourself in their shoes. If it were to be only an ordinary poll, the motion would be wavered because the schools' male population outweighs the females. This is so that it will not be biased." Mr. Vargas smiled.

Arthur looks like he was only second to crying. "Then get somebody else to do this!" He cried. Mr. Vargas only patted him in the head, large hands placed light on Arthur's sand-coloured locks.

"But this is also one of the responsibilities of a leader. You have to be just and fair to all."

"But this is nowhere near bloody fair to me!"

Mr. Vargas smiled. "Oh, well, that's life…" He patted Arthur on the head again before hugging the smaller man. Arthur let out a small 'eep' when Mr. Vargas' large arms wrapped around him.

"So cute~" Mr. Vargas said dopily. After that came a sound of pain coming from the same man.

"Ooowwwowwww! Stop that Oldrick!" Mr. Vargas said, as he tried to beg the German to let go of his ear.

"I would appreciate it if you would let go off my student and quit being such a bad example of conduct and morals." Mr. Beilschmidt said sternly, tightening the grip on Mr. Vargas's ear causing the man to let go.

"Yeah, yeah…Anyway Arthur, keep up the good work!" Mr. Vargas said, walking to the door.

"And good luck at keeping yourself from being sexually harassed, you're gonna need it!"

With that the Principal was out of the room leaving Arthur pissed off and Mr. Beilschmidt annoyed. Mr. Beilschmidt motioned Arthur, Vash and Elizabeta to take their seats.

This is going to be a long, long, long day.

**Note to self: I don't like giving characters names…How in the world did I decide that Germania would be Oldrick! Maybe writing this dead at night is well… **

**And I am pretty tempted to just call them by their nation names. Seriously, I would have posted this sooner if I wasn't cringing at naming them. Okay, got this one out. Thank you for the reviews, seriously thanks. And I'm going to reply! I always forget to include this portion in my stories…-looks over to reviews- **

**Maybe not, I wouldn't want to be a spoiler~ Still, so many reviews…I think this is the most reviews I ever got for a chapter…**

**I forgot, America isn't on this class. He's stuck with Japan, who is also not there. They should appear next chapter…that is if France doesn't beat all of them to getting into Arthur's pants-umm, skirt first.**

**Question: Is it okay if I switch back to calling them by their nation names? I'll still call them by their human names but as for the characters that don't have human canon names… Sorry, it just makes it quite hard to write. **

**Review~ And yes, Gilbert, I'll be doing your story next so get out of my head already! And quit sulking Romania, I'm already thinking about how you will save the day damnit! Well, I have to think of the how to start the conflict first…**


	3. Demention

**I don't own Hetalia, if I did England would have a harem, just saying.**

**Warning: Curses, Yaoi and France. Should I put a warning for Hungary and her troupe as well?**

**Yeah, I'm late I know but I wanted to get this out because I'm working on my firstborn, TWATV and I want some 'alone time' with it. I'm updating most of my multichaps this week because Gott knows how long they have been stuck in my computer. Anyways, I started to just go back to my own way of addressing countries, by both their human and nation names so yeah... Please go on reading good folks~**

**Demention**

England tried to concentrate on what Mr. Germania was saying. But he never really like math before and papers keep on piling on his desk.

Not to mention France smiling at next to him. How come they always, and really, always together? God, why didn't he just sit next to Switzerland when he had the chance?!

"In other words, you have to substitute the value of X and raise it to the ninth power…"

Mr. Germania looked over to his student. "Did anyone have any questions with that?" When no one raised their hands, the German continued.

"Anything else you might want to discuss or add?" Germania asked, closing his book. He saw Spain raising his hand. Germania raised an eyebrow at the Hispanic man. Usually, the man would just sleep through his class.

"Yes, Spain, is there something you want to ask?"

Germania watched as Spain's eyes wandered toward England, who was glaring at France. Germania noticed that England has been glaring at the Frenchman all this time.

And that France had that lecherous look on his face. Germania cannot blame the Brit for wanting to burn a hole through the Frenchman's head of course.

"Si, I just woke up a couple of minutes ago and was wondering…" Spain pointed at England, who was a hairstrand close to dislocating France's fingers for being too close.

"Is England wearing a skirt or am I dreaming again?"

Before Germania could reprimand Spain for sleeping in his class, he was interrupted by a cocky laughter.

"Kesesesese, you really missed a lot, Toni. You should have seen England's face when Rome came in. It was awesome! Oh yeah, they are in my blog, you could look there if you want."

"Damn it Prussia! Didn't I say that you take down those pictures already!" England said, pulling on starting to pull on France's hair.

"Owowowow! Mon amour, that hurts!"

"Shut up, you perverted frog!"

"So…I'm not dreaming this up then?" Spain asked.

"No, you're dreaming, tomato idiot. Go back to sleep, you're annoying." Romano said, scoffing at Spain's obliviousness.

"Lovi! Now I'm sure I'm not dreaming! You're not a tomato!" Spain exclaimed happily.

Romano glared at Spain. "Just what in the world are you dreaming, you tomato idiot!"

"England looks good in a miniskirt though…"Norway murmured. A laugh erupted next to him.

"Hahahaha! He sure does. Those are a nice set of legs, right Nor?" Denmark barked. Norway only nodded, even though the Dane was being too noise for Norway.

"Aiyah, there is no way England would wear a skirt. That must be an illusion."China said, eyes fastened on England.

"But the illusion does have England's backside right…" China said nonchalantly, watching as England start to throw jabs at France.

"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolk olkolkolkolkolkolkolkolkolko lkolkollkolkolkolkolkolkolko lkolkolkolkolkol….." China scooted away from Russia, who is staring at France with as much menace as the man could muster.

"Ve~ Germany~ Do you think England would like to have lunch with me?" Italy asked Germany whose head was hidden behind a book.

"Ve? Germany, is there something wrong? Don't you think England is cute?" Again, Italy asked, peering at Germany. Italy's eyes opened.

"Ve…Are you blushing Germany?" Italy watched as the German ducked his head into his book, reddening even more. Italy only smiled.

Netherlands only stared at the commotion but was distracted by his sister and her friend's chattering. Not to mention Hungary's camera sounds were starting to annoy him. He leaned in towards his sister, motioning her to come closer.

"How did you manage to get England to wear those again" Netherlands said to Belgium. Belgium only smirked as she saw her brother's eyes wander toward France and the said Brit. Belgium knew that her brother isn't exactly someone who would shy staring at other people's assets…And judging from how his brother's eyes stayed glued on England(Belgium isn't sure if he's staring at England's butt or his legs or just how that skirt flutters, perilously close to revealing-OKAY ENOUGH) he must really like what he is seeing.

Great blackmail material but Belgium thought that wouldn't work on his brother…

"Dear Brother…" Belgium smiled sweetly. "We have our ways…" Netherlands stared at his sister. There is no way his sister would reveal just how they manage to threaten the stubborn Englishman into a skirt. He was curious…

Probably by blackmail…or maybe those pans or even a sledgehammer…

A loud crash interrupted Netherland's less than morbid thoughts…

"Bloody hell…" England groaned. "Get off me you pompous frog-arse face." He rubbed his sore head that just collided in the floor when France tripped him

"Ohonhonhonhon~ I rather enjoy the view from here Mon cher~" England yelped when a rough hand touched his bare thighs…He almost forgot that he was wearing the stupid skirt…

England's eyes widened almost comically when he realized the position the France and him were in.

England's arse flat on the floor, his arms supporting his weight. It was the stereotype position for someone that just fell flat on his bum.

That is if it weren't for France above him, hovering far-too near his face that Arthur could smell his snail-smelling breath, and his legs in between the Frenchman's own.

Arthur blanched at that look on his vice-president's face. Arthur is used to it but for some reason he found it terrifying at the very second. The whole damn world has gone mad.

Oh yeah, he was wearing a goddamn skirt. Apocalypse must have started the moment he wore it. Arthur prayed that the world would just go atomic-boom right this second.

Of course it didn't. And that hand only pursued higher. Higher than Arthur would have liked. He is beginning to feel the irritation and anger he was feeling these past few antagonizing moments boil within him and reaching its peak.

Just one of the many peaks it would have for today at least. Though Arthur knew something.

Someone is going to feel pain. HELLISH AND JUST PURE PAIN.

With that thought, a swift, herculean kick was delivered to a certain Frenchman's vital regions.

The people who witnessed it heard something crack.

Not to mention the males' cringing and unconsciously reaching for their own vital regions.

The crunching sound was soon followed by an excruciating wail.

And France rolling on the floor, hands on his willy. England stood up gently and dusted himself, sneering at the writhing man below him.

Maybe with that people would think a hundred times before they mess with him.

Only if it was that easy.

"Whoooo~ You okay Franny?" Prussia piped in, still a little bit pale from the almost traumatizing event he saw. Little Gilbo so didn't have to remember that…

The Frenchman only wheezed. Well, at least his mind didn't get blown by that…

"I hope you'll think twice before pulling another act like that France." England muttered as he sat down and stared at the Frenchman. Maybe he got a little bit overboard…

No way…

"That goes for all of you." England stared down everyone in the room. He saw Italy quiver behind Germany who palmed his face, Romano gulping and paling a little. Arthur gained satisfaction at the horrified looks on Prussia and Spain's face.

Well, at least for the few moments that they are there…

"Mon cher…this silly thing is nothing if at least one of us can have a piece of that…" England glared at the Frenchman who was pulling himself up. He resisted kicking that shite smile off the man's face.

"Yeah, that's just your tsundereness talking." Prussia threw a loopy smile at England. "And you're so sexy when you're mad."

"Oui, isn't he?" France had the gall to smirk despite the lingering pain on his lower part. He has to get it check later.

Preferably by England, France thought.

"And besides we could gang up on you or something…You're a lot vulnerable wearing that skirt…" Spain said, not realizing he just voiced out his not-too-decent thoughts.

England paled at the thought. Oh merciful heavens… which England didn't know whether to believe… He was in more trouble than he ever thought.

"Ve…I think that wouldn't be nice…England should at least choose for himself…" Italy said, finally over that little frightfest he had witness. He certainly didn't like the idea of someone ganging on England.

He thought about it first!

"Of course not Italy~ I don't want to suffer Mon Angleterre's wrath for eternity after all…" France said, reassuring England and the rest of the people in the room.

"And besides, I rather prefer it to be all consensual…Non-con would be too crass, non?"

Prussia laughed wholeheartedly. Spain chuckled at the humor of his friend. Of course, of course, trust France the country of love to say something like that…

England wasn't amused though. Not by a long shot.

A freezing atmosphere loomed over the room. All of the nations in the room turned towards the direction of the spine-chilling chanting.

By the looks of things, Russia also wasn't amused.

"Kolkokolkolkolkolkolkolkolko kolkolkolkol…." A crack was heard beside the man. France slowly retreated back to his seat, realizing what it was.

Looks like the school has to replace another chair…And how in world did Ivan manage to get pass the school's security with a bloody pipe, England would never know.

Well, Vash does get away with guns so…

"Ne, England? You will have lunch with me, da?" Russia asked, smiling at England. Although it was innocent, England knew there was something…threatening about the man's smile.

"Eh…I-I…" England stuttered, trying to think of something to appease the Russian other than the choice of having lunch with him.

"Have lunch with me, Have lunch with me, Have lunch with me, Have lunch with me, Have lunch with me…" Russia continually chanted, the temperature dropping a few Celsius.

"I-I HAVE TO GO THE BATHROOM!" England abruptly stood up from his chair and stiffly walked towards the door.

"I need to go too! I'll come with you then~" Russia said, standing up as well.

"No, you bloody pillock!" England exclaimed.

"Hey, Angleterre?" France said, interest piqued by the conversation. "I never actually paid attention but…Are also wearing lingerie under those skirt?" France asked with a pleasant smile. His smile only got bigger when at the fierce blush on the Englishman's face.

"Of course not, you frog!"

"Well, you could be just denying it…Maybe mon cher Hungary could enlighten us?" France asked Hungary, who didn't even look up from her mobile and just continued with her rapid-mutilation of the keypads.

"You would have to find out about that yourself. And who knows, maybe we managed to knock England up and change his underwear into lace without him even knowing. He can be pretty dense though I doubt if anyone would not notice the difference between cloth and lace…"

Of course Hungary still didn't look up but base on the wicked smile on her face, she perfectly pictured the horrified look on Arthur's face and the seemingly pleased look that dance on France's eyes.

Well not just that, but also the predatory look every male on the room sent to England as if they could already see England on black and perfectly-fitting lace panties…or the furious redness on Germany, Switzersland and Germania's faces…

Hungary wondered what Austria's reaction would be…

All Hungary next heard was someone rushing to the door and slamming it shut, together with the first bell signaling the end of the class.

* * *

"Bloody hell, those stupid wankers…" England shouted as he splashed some water on his face. He stared at himself on the mirror. Sure his figure isn't as buff as Germany's but he wasn't puny either…well maybe a little but his figure is definitely far from a girl…He definitely is a male damn it!

England jumped when he felt someone lift his skirt. Backing away quickly, Arthur glared at his assaulter.

"Hmm, so aren't wearing lace…Not very sexy, I tell you…" Netherlands said before lighting up a fag. England frowned but the effect was ruined by the redness quickly spreading on Arthur's cheeks, reaching his ears. Netherlands could see the man's neck reddening as well…

The Dutch wondered how far did that supple red colour went.

"I could throw you at the detention for the rest of the month for that, Netherlands…" England straightened up. "And smoking at school is prohibited, you bloody pervert. But then again you live rather close to France…"

"I was just curious…And well, no. Just seeing you in a skirt is sexy enough." Netherlands smirked at the flabbergasted expression on England's face. He didn't actually mean it to come out like that, he was just saying what he truly felt saying.

And England does look drop-dead appetizing on a skirt. Just saying…

"Go fuck yourself, you fucking tobacco sucker!" England shouted, trying to regain his composer.

Netherlands smirked before putting out the cigarette by the sink. England watched as bits of ash and soot went down at the drain.

"Hmm, are you suggesting something England?" Netherlands said walking towards England, his advantage in height intimidating Arthur. Damn Netherlands' tallness or maybe it is just that England is short…well at least not as tall as Netherlands and most of the other people in the school.

"Now see here! If you're stupid, libidinous mind thought I was insinuating something, you are terribly, absolutely-" England was cut off when he was trapped on the wall by a larger Netherlands.

"I'm I wrong, England?"

The Netherlands' cold green eyes met Arthur's own melted emerald orbs. His muscular arms on both side of England's body, both effectively trapping him without touching the Englishman. His body hovering over England's, close enough to feel warm but not close enough to be suffocating. All in all it was intimate to say the least.

"Yes, yes you are."

"You're not as much fun as you were back then, England…"

"I never had this kind of fun with you, Netherlands."

Netherlands frowned but backed away from the Englishman though he relish at the fact at England's deep sigh of relief.

The bell rang. England quickly ran pass Netherlands. He was, of course, thankful for the bell but he couldn't have any students finding him the comfort room, wearing as goddamn skirt and with Netherlands of all people.

England wouldn't want other students think that this is some kinky costume for England. The Netherlands reputation precedes him after all…

Just as England was going out of the door, he heard Netherlands call out to him.

"Maybe seeing you wearing nothing but lace and ribbons would be enough." The man said, hiding a small smug smile on his face.

"Not on your life, bastard." England snapped back at the Dutch before he strode quickly to his next class.

* * *

The rest of the room watched England as he went out of the room, along with his swaying short skirt.

Needless to say, it was a pretty distracting sight.

The door opening suddenly broke their mess-up thoughts though describing it as such would be too….inaccurate to say the least. Well at least for some people in the room.

"Sumimasen, but is England-san here?" A huffing Japan came to view, followed by a confused American who just scratched the back of his head.

"I told you, Japan, England would never wear something like that, the man is such a prude. Prussia probably edited it or something…" Alfred said, obviously pissed off about the fact that Japan just dragged him all the way from the east wing just to confirm this little rumor going about in the school.

"Kesesesese, you're totally lame America! You cannot see the genius that is the awesome,will-always-be-infinitely-more awesome-than-you me. And I didn't edit it! Artie happens to be really wearing a girl's skirt at the moment!"

Alfred raised an eyebrow at the man . "Oh yeah? Then where is he then?"

"He happens to have gone to the restroom… I wonder what restroom though…"Prussia said, actually thinking. Arthur wouldn't be stupid enough to go in the boy's bathroom, wearing a skirt and all… Yeah the man probably did unfortunately.

Gilbert just hopes no one has tapped that ass before he did.

"And?"

Prussia huffed. "And what, you bumbling idiot? I'm I suppose to say everything! Figure it out yourself, hero."

"So, Arthur-san is somewhere around the school wearing skirt, right?" Japan piped in, slight irritation noticeable in his calm features.

"Ve~ You should have seen him, Japan! He looked sooo cute~" Italy waved at his friend. To this, Japan only frowned slightly, disappointment on his face.

"What class does England have next after this?" Italy asked innocently. It would be good if he'll have the next class with Arthur.

"Hmmm, according to what I saw at his schedule, he's supposed to have some free time after this. Being the President has its perks you know?" France said, already up and ridding his uniform of dust.

"So, he's going to hide in his office! Not fair!" Prussia whined. Even the great and awesome him cannot infiltrate the office that easily and be sure to keep breathing in the end. Why in the world did Switzerland hide all of those guns in England's desk cabinets?

"He can't." Elizabeta said smiling. "We had a deal that he'll not go in his office during school hours."

France stared at the Hungarian. "You're a scary woman, you know that right?"

"Of course…"

* * *

**And we have Netherlands~ I had fun writing him, yup I did. I'm thinking of doing the Italy twins with sidedish Japan and Germany next, or whatever floats my boat because I'm totally random. And foodplay, man I'm hungry! **

**You people realize that this is going to get worst as the chapter goes by right? Worst for our England and the author is slowly turning into a pervert. Anyways, not to sound like a review-hungry author but you guys will do me a favour if you review~ And thank you for the reviews, favs, alerts and reading this. **

**Please request more because I'm a scatterbrain that forgets what pairings I should do and so. **

**Review! Review! Review!**


	4. Confusion

**Disclaimer: Himaruya + Genius = Hetalia. Do you see me anywhere near the equation? **

**Warning: Italians and handcuffs and pasta. Oh, some maple syrup as well. **

**Hi people! I'm back, excuse the lame chapter please.**

**Confusion.**

"Fuck, why did I ever agreed to this?! What was I even thinking?" England said, walking through the long, forlorn hallways of the school.

And yes, he's still in a skirt. A too-bloody-short skirt that keeps on swaying and hiking up.

He stopped at the front of a large door and look in his bag for his keys.

And yes, he is in the front of the infamous Student Council office, known to be a place where a lot of poor souls enter and few return from the hands of the demons that run it. It has been dubbed as the Demon's Gate, the place of no return.

Said Head demon now wearing a skirt.

"Where is that blasted key?!" Arthur said, quickly trying another one. Well, it would have been good if there were only a couple of said keys. Bit unfortunately, the council president holds a copy to every single club room, equipment room, gates and to the gym. Racking those will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Specially since you practically have all of the keys in the school with the exception of the Principal's office. England remembers how much he wanted to strangle the man when he presented him with the set of keys. And he has to carry them all day.

"Bloody hell…" England's hands were sweating. Of course he knew that if Hungary were to catch him around the office, he'll be a dead duck.

Arthur shivered at the promise of wearing the girls' pe uniform. He'd rather quit school than wear that. No, he'll definitely die first before wearing that!

With that thought in his head, Arthur resumed looking for the said key, without noticing the person that sneaked up behind him.

"England." The said person said behind England, breath wafting on the man's nape.

"Gyaaah!" England jumped away from the voice, not even distinguishing if the voice was of a man's or a woman's.

Well, England knew it wasn't Hungary. He didn't get hit by lightning right on the spot so it cannot be her.

"What the hell!" Arthur raised an eyebrow at the blond-haired man in front of him. "Who are you?"

"I'm Canada, England." Canada said, lips quirking to the side slightly.

"Canada…" England frowned. "What are you doing here? Don't you have classes?" England asked wearily, careful not to let anyone hear or even see him. He was forbidden to be here.

"Ah, well I had been following you for minutes now, you just didn't notice."

England stared up to the man. For such a meek looking person, he was so tall. He was almost as tall as Russia…

"Eh, do I have something on my face?" Canada asked. England could see that the boy was nervous. Now why would he be… England turned away from the Canadian, without hearing the small sigh of relief.

The two blond nations stood in front of the giant door. England, quickly running his hands over on the keys, Canada watching the man, trying not to let his eyes wander to those thighs. Canada silently cursed France.

It didn't help that the skirt was swaying ever so dangerously just before his eyes. Again, Canada silently cursed at that annoying little 'France voice' on his head. Canada shook his head. No, that 'France voice' is JUST A FIGMENT OF HIS IMAGINATION!

Though he isn't sure if the urge to jump the Englishman is a part of his imagination or not. Canada mentally hit his head on an imaginary wall. Again another figment of his imagination

"Umm, you could use my key if you like." Matthew said, feeling cold sweat on his nape when the Englishman sharply turned to him.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place!?" England snapped at the man who looked very much like America but is not America. Though when he saw the taller man stiffen he tried to reign his words. This isn't America. This is his calmer, more agreeable brother Ca…something.

"Err, sorry. I'm…" England tried to think of a word for it. He didn't notice the slight surprised look on the younger countries face.

"I'm just a wee bit riled up. And I usually take it out on other folks, so s-sorry if I snapped at you." England averted his eyes, staring at a particular space on the wall. To be exact, a place where he cannot see the violet eyes of the Canadian widening in surprise.

The sound of students walking towards the Council office jolted the awkward atmosphere out of them. England's eyes widened as he was dragged into the room, which is already opened, by Can…America's older brother. The two of them leaned on the door until those footsteps disappeared.

Two sigh of ease were heard within the four corners of the room.

England quickly went over to his desk, rummaging through the drawers. A sound of triumph was heard when Arthur pulled a M16 caliber gun. England had to thank Switzerland for this later. After all, he was the one who left all these pretty much capable artilleries here, all for Arthur's convenience, well not exactly Arthur's, more like the school's convenience but still it did serve its purpose for the Council president. Whether the disturbance had something to do with the lecherous vice-president or just a few rascals messing up the school, or just one of the people in Arthur's long, very long list of people he'll shot dead one day, the fear and threat these arms had is enough to crumble all those disturbances to the ground. Arthur had, as in had really had, seen Switzerland smile at the way his beloved arms brought peace to the school and more importantly, to Arthur's life. Well, for Arthur that is the most important.

His peace and his tea that is.

"W-what are you gonna do with that?!" England lifted his head to see a petrified Can…again England can't remember. England cocked his head in confusion. Why is that that the lad always looked like he had seen bloody murder or something?

Of course what England didn't know is that he was making a face that looked like he was ready to turn the school into a mere puddle of blood and discarded flesh.

"Nothing, just to hunt frogs." Arthur smiled at the Canadian. Canada gulped, not sure just why did he thought of frog legs at the moment or if the thought was even…never mind… Canada refuses to dwell on the thought much longer.

Canada stiffened when Arthur's jaded eyes looked up to him. The man's eyes were always so expressive. Even he didn't need France to tell him that. When the Englishman was in pain, the vibrant lush green dulled, when he was mad it flared like melted emeralds within cauldrons as hot as hell, when he was happy its shine couldn't be matched by any amount of emeralds, jade or limestone put together. The man's eyes were so expressive that even if he tried to hide his emotions, it still blatantly showed in those emerald orbs. The reason the Englishman seemed cold and unfeeling was because not a lot of people pay attention to his eyes, their eyes usually glued to those eyebrows. And the fact that England is a very, very, very good actor. But then again, most people just really can't get over those eyebrows. Canada almost felt himself laughing again when he remembers the first time he saw those eyebrows….He was not able to take his eyes off it for like a month, always watching it if twitched or wiggled or if it would crawl away like what France had said.

But there was a time when Canada noticed it wasn't on the eyebrows his attention was fixed on. It was during the America's revolution. Those times where when Canada would see England's eyes dull, furious, dark and then dull again. Even though England kept his cold and indifferent mask on, just fixed on suppressing America's forces as if it was just a job and nothing more.

Of course it had been more. And Canada saw it more than anyone else's , not even France nor America, nor anyone else's. Canada felt a something well inside him, something he only identified as pride quite recently.

He after all stayed with England through the whole ordeal. He would know. But at same time, it brought memories of a broken, dull-eyed Englishman back on Canada's mind.

It was something Canada couldn't help but hate America for. He had never seen his former caretaker that desolated. He knew that it pained America as well to see their former caretaker like that but it hurt Canada in ways America wouldn't even fathom.

Afterall, it wasn't America that had to deal with England when the man would wallow in his despair and practically drown himself in alcohol or lock himself in his quarters or not eat until he gets so sick he cannot stand up, or…or….

Or just plain seeing England fell apart and make a steel cage over his heart. Canada cannot even remember how many time he cursed America as well as France for those years that he didn't feel the same warmth he felt from England, the same rare smile that Canada coveted everytime now gone and nonexistent, those small touches cold, those eyes that Canada would still watch even if they looked like the eyes of a dead man. When England only conquered and conquered coldly. Just pure lust for power.

America and France weren't the ones left longing for the old England back… It had been him and the rest of England's other colonies, those who knew that there is something more to the man that just being a power hungry empire.

Though Canada is sure the both the American and Frenchman longed for England, in more ways than one.

"Why do you have a key anyway?" Canada broke his litany when he remembered England's eyes and the questioning look it held. That was the reason he got dragged back into those thoughts again.

"The people who have their own individual keys were members of the council…" England said, not noticing that Canada had drifted off on his own thoughts even for just a short period of time. England sat down, scrutinizing the gun. A please sound came from him when he saw the cartridge fully loaded. Trust Switzerland to be so awfully prepared…

"I-I'm the Council Treasurer, don't you remember?" Canada tried to hold onto the irritation and anger he suddenly felt. Here he was, already waist-deep in thoughts on the man who cannot even remember him.

Just him. Not as America's older brother or France's look-alike.

He was Canada.

He was the child that hated the Englishman first but learned to really love him gradually.

He was the man but not yet a man that stayed with the Englishman through and through it all.

He was the man who watched the Englishman pull himself up, slowly and painfully relinquishing his hate for the sake of his people.

He was the man that always watched from behind and although he cannot claim he knew the Englishman the best, he knows that he knows him enough not to be thwarted by that cold, demeaning mask and look deep within.

He was the man that stayed. He loved England

He was Canada.

"Hmm, what's your name again?" England asked, looking up to the other man.

Well, that did it.

"My name is Matthew Williams. And I'm Canada, Arthur." England stared up to the Canadian.

"W-what?!"

Okay something is wrong, very wrong with this scene. (more like something right for a change)

When did Canada, weird as it is that he finally remembered the lad, became that fast. He was sure that his wrist weren't trap within those, now that he noticed, large hands. Nor was he pinned down on the couch. Before he was pinned down on a wall, now a couch… What's next? A desk maybe…

"G-get off me! Now!" England screeched. There is something about those eyes that made England feel awful.

_Guilt._

"No. Not until you see me."

England glared at the man. "I CAN SEE YOU JUST FINE! YOU'RE STRADDLING ME REMEMBER?!" He gulped at the intensity those violet eyes burnt. He had never noticed but Canada can be very scary. His breath hitched when Canada leaned in, their nose nearly touching.

"I wonder…If you can really see me?" Canada's hair hiding those eyes. England looked up confusedly at the Canadian, as well as peeved. How dare he doubt his vision… He could see the man just fine, if not then why would he feel cold sweat at the position the two of them are in.

"Of course I can see you, you're America's-" Arthur was interrupted when his lips were caught by the younger man. England trashed around, in an attempt of getting his hands free or threw off the taller nation.

The Englishman's eyes widened.

The Skirt.

The bloody skirt was hiking up. More importantly, when did his legs, yes with the bare skin and all, got tangled with the Canadian. His face heat up as Canada's pants brush against his legs. He never paid attention to skin contact before but having your legs tangled, brushed, rubbed and touch, as well as that bloody skirt just really have to be too short, practically exposing his umm, vital regions is just embarrassing. England felt the skirt grazed the couch and hitched up even more. He felt so exposed with just a bloody short piece of clothing on.

England swore that when this day is done, he'll just wear pants forever. Not even shorts. He wiggled, trying to flatten the skirt again. It didn't work, thus he concentrated his efforts on getting his hand free. He almost forgot about the Canadian who was kissing the daylights out of him.

That was until he ran out of breath. He kicked at the Canadian more fiercely when he felt the need to have air. Unsurprisingly, the Canadian willingly drew back, face flush and he was panting. The need for air, apparently grew to great.

Arthur drew a deep breath in. But not before landing a punch on the Canadian's gut, making the man fall off the couch and writhe in pain. After that he quickly straightened his skirt, and attempted to lower it again but to no avail.

"What was that for?!" Arthur shouted, giving up on the skirt. England was proven that the skirt is not stretchable. For like his thirty-sixth try.

"Don't say America. I'm not him." England cocked his head to the side, baffled by the other nations' answer.

"Of course you're not him, you're…"

"I'm not France's look-alike either."

"Of course not! You're-" England was once again cutoff when Canada took a hold of his arm, his words were choked within his throat as he was pulled down to the floor by Canada.

"I'm Canada, England."

"I KNOW THAT!" England tried to loosen the man's hold on him but it proved to be harder than he espected.

"I wonder if you really know…" Canada unconsciously tightened his hold. He wondered, truly wondered if England would see him, just him alone.

"Of course I- Bloody hell! You're hurting me!" England's eyes widened as he was pulled into a bear-like hug. His head pressed against the Canadian's broad chest.

"I had always wanted to be seen by you. Please see me." England heard the man whisper. It was like a child's plea. It only made the guilt in England's heart worst. And he felt the man's hug tighten a fraction.

"Canada, lad. You and Ame-your brother are different. I might not see you sometimes but I know that you're you and I am proud to have raised you. Now please loosen your arms, I can't breathe."

Canada quickly released England. He watched as the smaller man took in air. "Sorry." The Canadian mumbled.

"That's fine." England let out a strained laugh. "But I must admit, I thought you were going bonkers for a second there…" Again England laughed. His eyes widened when Canada once again seized his hand.

"I wasn't." Canada held his breath. He was going to tell him. He saw that England was scared, surprised and curious at the same time. He needed to tell him now, this is his chance!

"England, I-"Canada is really going to tell him. Nothing could foil this moment.

"ENGLAND I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

Canada jumped at the loud banging on the door. That was America. Canada thought maybe he could ignore his brother. This is one-in-a-million chance. He cannot lose this!

Choosing to ignore America, Canada tried again.

"England, I-"

"Mon cheri, We know you're shy and all. Let big brother in~"

"Maple." Canada mumbled. Okay, he was pissed right now. Here he was, about to declare his love and his brother and former caretaker have to be such cockblockers.

A jiggle of keys made England push the Canadian away and duck behind the couch. Whatever it is that Canada has to say, it will have to wait. He cannot be seen in this particular room, at least if England still wants to get through the day and salvage whatever is left of his pride. He didn't saw the amused smile on Canada's lips. Nor the look of the Canadian probably screaming just how cute he looked at the moment, hiding behind the couch, cheeks slightly reddened and pouting.

England didn't know that Canada just had another reason to fall in love. And to help him not be seen by his brother and former caretaker.

The doors opened, revealing France and America as well as Japan trailing behind them. They only saw Canada sitting on the couch, casually reaching for paperwork he needs to get done.

America looked around the room to find that there is no sign of the Englishman anywhere. "Hey, Matt, have you seen England here?" America asked the Canadian.

"No. I haven't. " Canada said easily._ 'As if I'll tell you. Consider this a payback.'_ He thought as he gave America a smile.

"Well, mon Canada, please give big brother a call if you see England around here, oui." France said, eyes also surveying the room. The room is still except for the couch that the Canadian sat on. England didn't come here.

"Yes, France." Canada flashed another smile. _'Yeah, right. Payback's a bitch, eh?' _Canada smiled as he watched the trio go away. Canada sat there for a while before sighing.

"So much for confessing, eh…" His violet eyes wandered towards the opened door of the balcony.

The balcony leads to a pathway to the corridors. England is already gone.

"Maybe I'll join this chase too…" Canada murmured, wishing he had brought Kumakochi along.

* * *

England leaned against the wall, panting. He didn't know what he would have done if anyone saw him there. "That was a close one…" England said, silently making a note to thank Canada next time he sees the lad.

"And in the end I didn't get that stupid gun…" England frowned. If it weren't for those two morons he would have safely gotten it.

"Now…what should I-"

"Ve! England! Found you!"

England turned towards the voice sharply, seeing a smiling Italy running towards him. He relaxed. It's just Italy.

"Shh, keep it down." England said, not insulting the Italian. He just can't insult him, even if he says his cooking is icky. Well, he calls him idiot or moron from time to time but that's just that.

The Italian stopped in front of England and smiled. "Ve, sorry~ Are you still running away from big brother France? He went to look for you, you know." The Italian whispered. He tried to control himself from jumping the man right now. It didn't help that he looked adorable while anxiously looking for any wandering students. Italy is glad that he took the secluded part of the school alone for a change.

The skirt is a super bonus though.

"Ve, England! Have pasta with me!" Italy tugged on the Englishman's sleeves.

"W-what?"

"Have pasta with me."

"Why? Italy, this isn't the time…"

Italy smiled at England. "But any time is good to have pasta~"

"And I'll help you out of the building too!" Italy said, further coaxing the Englishman. Of course, he'll be able to lead Arthur out of the building. No one would suspect him after all…

"Okay." England agreed begrudgingly. He followed the Italian as he was dragged away.

* * *

"Ve~ Finally we're out!" Italy said, still dragging England away from the building and towards the school gardens where he left his picnic basket.

'And Germany said leaving pasta all over the school was a bad thing…' Italy thought as he skipped, England following closely behind.

England followed the Italian, watching him closely. He didn't know that the Italian could lie so smoothly like that. Feliciano just never looked like he could hurt a fly.

Much less lie to France like that.

"Ve, that was a close one. France-nii almost caught us." Italy chimed, sitting down on the grass, reaching for the basket he hid somewhere in the bushes. _That won't be good._ Italy mentally added.

"Err, I guess not." England watched Italy as he sat down on the grass and rustle through the bushes. He wanted to say that Italy helped him by lying to France but a part of him is weary of the bubbly Italian.

"Ve…" Italy frowned when he saw the look on England's face. He looked like he would run away any second. Italy would have none of that though.

"England…" Italy grabbed England wrist and pulled him down to him with surprising strength. "…You should seat down, ve~" The Italian smiled when England kneeled down on his knees beside him, probably surprised he was able to pull him down.

'Well, they all would be at first~' Italy hummed in his head.

"Italy…don't you think I should be hiding right now…"

"But, if the others see you with me, they'll not think you went anywhere near you office~" England contemplated on what the Italian said but his thoughts were cut short when he handed down a plate of pasta.

"Ve, England, don't you like pasta?" Italy asked, noticing that the Englishman only stared at the plate.

"Uh, well, I do like your cooking. I was just thinking…"

"That's good! You should eat then!" Italy said, enthusiasm overflowing.

"Hmm, it wouldn't hurt…"

"Yay~" Italy smiled as he watched the Englishman eat. England found it hard to seat on the grass, in a skirt so he shifted frequently as he eat. Italy found it cute. Of course, Italy knew from the very start just how cute the man is really, even without the skirt, Italy always found England adorable.

And of course he wanted England for himself just like the many others scattered around the school. Italy's face twitched a little at the thought.

"Hey, Arthur…"

England stopped eating before looking at the Italian. "Hmm?" He stared confusedly when Italy pointed at his face.

"You have some sauce on your face, ve." Italy chuckled as England quickly reached to wipe the sauce off.

"Ah, thank you telling me, I-" England froze as Italy leaned in, cupping his cheek. He jolted when he felt something wet lick the side of his mouth. England quickly recoiled when Italy pulled away.

"You missed some~" Italy only smiled at the Englishman's reaction.

"Eh?" England pointed confusedly at the Italian. When did Italy become a lot like…a lot like…

'France!' England thought as he felt his cheeks redden. Warning sounds rang like hell's bells through England's head.

The smirk on Italy's wasn't helping one bit as well.

"Ve~ Are you alright, Arthur?" Italy seized England's hand and tilted himself closer to England, melted chocolate eyes meeting confused green ones.

"You looked flushed..." England tensed as he felt Italy's breath mingling with his own, practically purring in front of him.

And totally invading his personal space. And his warning senses were telling him to get away.

England quickly stood up, despite his knees feeling like jelly, and tugged on his hand. Italy lets it go, face neutral. England couldn't be sure but he thought he saw Italy's lustrous brown orbs take a darker look.

"Y-yes! I'm fine. I guess I was a little faint from running and all, hahaha…" Even to England's own ears he sounded unbelievable. And even though he knew that the Italian had a known nature that would surely be naïve enough to believe him, England wasn't so sure about it now… especially with the scrutinizing look he receives from the Italian, just barely seconds after.

England tried to not release a sigh when he heard Italy's jovial laughter. At least that was familiar.

"Ve~ I guess you would be. Maybe you would like some wine to drink, yes?" England tried not to dwell on the fact that that would be what would France say if he were here. That man's answer to everything was wine. Well, wine, sex, food and more sex but then again it is France…

'Not Italy…' England reminded himself.

"No, I-I think I just need water. I'm feeling a bit too light-headed for any alcohol at moment…" England saw Italy's eyes dropped, showing disappointment.

"Ve…I guess so…"

"I'll just go to the drinking fountain then…" England turns away from the Italian and lets out a deep sigh. Well, was about to, when it was cut off when Italy took a hold of his hand once again.

And brought it to his lips. England stared startled when Italy placed a light kiss on his knuckles.

"Don't be too long. We still have gelato left." Italy said in a sultry, honey-laced voice. The look he gave to England however was enough to elicit a shiver from the Englishman.

Well, actually did elicit a shiver. England would be shot dead if he didn't see the small, smug smirk on the Italian's face which was quickly covered up with a good-natured, sweet smile as he lets go of England's hand, just a brief as how he took it.

However, how does Italy make such a brief and quick action seems so seductive?

"Uh…" England only manages to nod at the Italian, speechless. He scurries off to the direction of the drinking fountains.

And the feeling of eyes staring never left him. In fact, it only intensified.

Italy watched as England's lone figure disappear though the buildings. A part of him wanted to frown and curse because he had been planning that one for quite a while now, well, inviting Arthur to lunch and Arthur wearing pants were part of his plan. It wasn't part of his plan to fluster the man though…

Well, sort of not part of the plan…

But then again…Arthur wearing a skirt had been a catalyst so Italy figured he'd have to step on it if he wanted to feed his fratello and his other competitors dirt and dust. Italy laughed as he relished on the thought.

"Ve…I wished Japan was here…I would have like a picture of Arthur." Italy said absentmindedly, debating with himself whether he should follow the Englishman or wait.

* * *

"What was that?!" England said as he splashed some water on his face. The water is good and cools down the previously hot feeling on his cheeks.

Italy, sweet, innocent, weak Italy…England is still dizzy from all that, and the cool water helped to wash it away.

"Ve! England are you here?!" England stiffened when he heard the Italian's voice. And from the sound of it was a close. England splashed some more water on his face. He heard footsteps behind. England, assuming that it was the Italian dried his face before turning to face the man.

"Italy, you-" England was cutoff as he felt a swift impact on the back of his neck, literally knocking the breath and consciousness out of him. England saw golden brown eyes before plunging into darkness.

* * *

Italy hums a certain tune as he skips through the corridors of the school, deciding to follow England after all. He smiles at when he hears the faintest sound of water running. He decides to shout at the Englishman, inquiring if he was anywhere nearby. Italy frowns when he doesn't receive anything.

A slight tap on his steps were heard as he quickens his pace.

Italy hears the water, still running. He smiles before peeking at the drinking fountain, fully expecting a startled England.

But there was no England present. Only a cold look on the Italian's face.

"Fratello…" Italy mutters knowingly before his lips curves into a smile. A cold, deceptively sweet smile. He wears that smile as he skips down the corridor.

* * *

When England woke up, he was in this room. One of the vacant rooms in the school. He was tied to a chair, a his head was slightly throbbing in pain.

"You're awake." England looks over to his side, to see Romano sitting on the floor.

"What do you think you're doing Romano?" England asks the Italian. He knows that Romano is afraid of him, and of this is one of Spain's jokes, it certainly isn't funny.

"Isn't obvious eyebrow bastard?" England looks up to Romano, when the man stood up and walked towards him. Those light brown eyes. England remembers how he hates looking up to people.

"I'm kidnapping you." England blinked at the statement. How could Romano say that as if that in a matter-of-fact voice?

England glared at the Italian. "If this is a joke, it isn't funny! Release me at once! I swear, if this is Spain's doing, I'll-" England didn't get to finish when the Italian lowered himself, face directly in front of England. England lets out a yelp when Romano took a hold of his tie and pulled him closer.

"No, eyebrow bastard…This is my own doing." England choked when Romano pulled on the fabric harshly. "Don't say other names when you're with me." England felt shivers through his spine at the dark voice of the Italian.

"Bloody hell…I can't breathe." England managed to say. He breathed deeply when Romano dropped the tie and pulled away.

The two of them stayed like that. England avoiding those brown orbs that lingered on him. He searched his head for any reasons as to why the Italian would have a grudge of him

"Why are you doing this…If it is revenge because I sent you to detention last week, this is rather shallow. I mean you did attack a student and I had to do take action-"

"Do you really think I would this for something like that? If I wanted revenge, I would have lace your tea with poison, bastard."

"T-then what is that you want?" England tried to not dwell on the fact that Romano would actually lace his tea with poison, or even think that he would get away with it.

"Isn't that obvious?" England's verdant eyes meets melted caramel ones, as his head was forcefully turned to face the Italian, hands gripping on his chin hard enough that England thought it would bruise.

"I want you."

"Eh?" England stared, confused at what the Italian just said. Okay…something is really messed up here.

"Are you an idiot?"

"W-what?"

"When I say I want you…" England let out a startled sound when Romano's unoccupied hand grazed his bare thighs. He tried to get it off but it tightened its hold, clawing on his legs.

"I mean it." The Englishman felt Romano's warm breath on his ears, as he said those words but his attention wasn't on that. It was on the man's hand. The hand inched dangerously close to England's skirt. Again, memories of a certain Frenchman's not-so-long-ago shenanigans flashed through England head.

And like what happen to a certain Frenchman, Romano soon found himself on the floor. Although, his vital regions were missed by few millimeters.

"Bloody hell…WHAT IS WITH YOU, PEOPLE!?" England shouted, trying to get up from the chair he was bound to.

"Have none of seen someone in a skirt before!" England's breathing raspy. "Maybe I should have signed that memorandum, then I wouldn't be pestered by annoying people that seems to get high seeing a male in a freaking skirt!" England's were heard inside the room, him trying to catch his breath after saying all that. He didn't even pay attention to the Italian on the floor, staring up to him. He also didn't notice the somber expression on the grumpy man's face.

"I like you."

England turned sharply towards Romano. "What did you say?"

"I said I like you."

"You are not serious."

"And who are you to say I am not serious?"

England raised an eyebrow at the Italian. The look on the Italian's face was, well, dead serious. But to Arthur, it definitely didn't sound like a confession. Arthur Kirkland never thought he'll get a confession from Romano, of all people.

"Seriously? Are you this slow? Even Spain's turtles would be faster than you."

"Hey! That's uncalled for!" England gulped when Romano was suddenly back up on his feet and on England's personal space again.

"I like you, and it isn't just the skirt but I can say it looks good on you." England flushed at both the proximity and Romano's words. Not exactly what he expects.

"I like you, and I kidnapped you because I don't like that others are getting ideas on what is suppose to be mine."

"W-what?!" What other exactly? England wanted to ask.

"And here I was thinking you're smart." England watched as Romano sighed and step back a little. "You were with my fratello, I saw you." Romano paused before continuing.

"I don't like that."

"Why?"

"Because…" Arthur's eyes widened when Lovino cupped his face using both hands, making him look straight through those golden brown eyes.

"I like you, like you a lot." England felt his face warm up again.

"Wha?" England tried to think of what to say when a knock on the door was heard.

"Ve!~ Fratello! I know you're in there! So mean, trapping England to yourself. I'll call Germany if you don't get him out right this second~" Romano 'tsked' at the familiar voice.

"Call that potato macho if you want, I don't care." Romano glared at the door. Both England and Romano heard laughter from outside.

"Well, he'll probably bring France-nii or Prussia…then we would have no chance at all…Ve! Why don't we just share?~"

"Don't you dare open that door Feliciano. I'm not good a sharing, and your even worst at it than me. I should know."

"Meanie."

"Lier."

"Hahahaha~ I would get England out of there right this second if I were you. Japan and the others are coming."

"Fuck…"

Romano meets England's eyes before sighing. He reaches for something in his pocket. England watches as Romano reach to unlock the handcuffs tying him to the chair.

"Don't get out of the room, unless you have counted to a thousand. And be careful, my grandfather already cancelled most of the classes, making today a special Club's day."

"Why?"

"Fuck, weren't you listening, I just confessed I like you. I cannot have you be discovered here by those people." Romano glanced at the door. "And I can't trust my brother not to do something if you stayed here."

"Romano…"

"What?"

"I-I…"

"If you're gonna say that you'll be mine, then say it bastard."

"That wasn't it!" England frowned. Romano wasn't this much of an arsehole last time he remembered.

"Remember to count until a thousand." And with that Romano came out of the room, locking it from the inside. Arthur noted that Romano even left his keys.

"A thousand…" England whispered as he starts to count on. He could hear Romano and Italy's steps going away, and a couple of shouts. England could clearly picture Romano dragging a crying Italy through the hallways. There were cussing sounds and a couple of ve's that England could still hear.

* * *

**Oooooooh. WHAT A LAME ENDING. Sorry, Romano, I cannot have you jumping England this early in the story, maybe later. **

**Also, that's one point for Romano. I assure you someone didn't bribe me with a dozen boxes of Italian pizza and threaten-I mean coax me to let him win Mafioso style, nuhuh, nope, I WISH. **

**And…I also didn't find some crates of tomatoes in my backyard just this morning. Like tomatoes…**

**Anyways, there's gonna be more than one incident of kidnapping here(someone already talked to me about it) and I'm rapidly running out of sick, wicked situations to put England in, I would like some help, really, REALLY.**

**Also Canada appeared, now that was from a nicely done bribe(brother, you never fail to put solutions to my problems) I was debating whether to bring UsUk out or FrUk BUT then my brother said to go with Canada, so here he is…I just got a bit carried away. **

**Next chapter will involve a janitor's closet and a broom and woods. Review, please, just day what dark, dark, fangirlish fantasies I know you people have. I cannot read minds you know. Or maybe bribe me into letting your OTP win, I'm invulnerable to puppy dog eyes and promises of strawberry milkshakes!**

**Now excuse me while I run away from the pasta being thrown at me, along with other things. Seriously, France, a flying dildo -throws it away- **


End file.
